The Going of the Battery Wives. (Lament) (Thomas Hardy Poem)
I O it was sad enough, weak enough, mad enough - Light in their loving as soldiers can be - ...
I O it was sad enough, weak enough, mad enough - Light in their loving as soldiers can be - ...
No cries of hosanna no hail to the king palm boughs not waving no sound of singing greeting the Lord ...
With Christ crucified humble, simple men the two thieves on the cross dying beside the Lord What they must have ...
The words of the devil, taunting the Christ-child alone in the desert daring him to act What he could have ...
In the pain of the cross, shared by each of them, he asked he asked for forgiveness of the king, ...
Where is the thread The need to be on point Playing when I should be reading Looking for more sources ...
A big fat black dirigible of a fly careening around the office buzzed me, like a test pilot and the ...
PRONE, on my couch I calmly slept Against my wont. A little child Awoke me as he gently crept And ...
I The roaring of Te Whaiau intake weir intrudes as sleep eludes again to soar across the lake on white-tipped, ...
ALONG the banks where Babel's current flows Our captive bands in deep despondence stray'd, While Zion's fall in sad remembrance ...
Love, indeed thy strength is mighty Thus, alone, such strife to bear -- Three 'gainst one, and never ceasing -- ...
When she came out, that white little Russian dancer, With her bright hair, and her eyes, so young, so young, ...
I. "Another day, Ah! me, a day "Of dreary Sorrow is begun! "And still I loath the temper'd ray, "And ...
WHERE o'er my head, the deaf'ning Tempest blew, And Night's cold lamp cast forth a feeble ray; Where o'er the ...
LOVE, I renounce thy tyrant sway, I mock thy fascinating art, MINE, be the calm unruffled day, That brings no ...
Oft have I seen yon Solitary Man Pacing the upland meadow. On his brow Sits melancholy, mark'd with decent pride, ...
Water in the millrace, through a sluice of stone, plunges headlong into that black pond where, absurd and out-of-season, a ...
It's 12:34 And I hear them Battering me with a foul message The maddening interpretations The two dots taunting Walk ...
Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife He would have written sonnets all his life? DON JUAN, III, 63-4 ...
I asked the old Negro, "What is that bird that sings so well?" He answered: "That is the Rachel-Jane." "Hasn't ...
A Fantasy, dedicated to the little poet Alice Oliver Henderson, ten years old. The Fantasy shows how tiger-hearts are the ...
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